


Medic POV

by classillama16



Category: Team Fortress 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 02:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classillama16/pseuds/classillama16
Summary: So I've found that I seem to do better with writing bits about behind-the-scenes happenings that we don't quite see in the comics than I do with writing original fanfics. So I think that's what I'm gonna do. This is a story that I started about a year ago that's been sitting in my notes app on my phone for quite a while now, and I figured I'd share it. So here's some stuff I wrote in an effort to get inside the mind of my favorite merc of all time: Medic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In which Medic gives his input on each member of the new team he is working for.
> 
> This chapter is inspired by that one scene from the comic "A Cold Day in Hell".
> 
> Hope you enjoy; let me know what you think!

"And that's it, Greg! Your cavity is filled!"

"Yeah, yeah."

After I watch him hobble out of the room, I turn back to the operating table. Ah,  _was für ein_ _Chaos_. I'd gotten so lost in the rush of the operation that I'd completely forgotten to keep the organs sorted! How careless of me. The baboon uteruses I still have left are in an icebox with the scarlet macaw brains. I need to get that sorted out as soon as possible. 

Archimedes lands on my shoulder and coos. He is concerned about my means of "filling Greg's cavity."

" _Ja_ ," I say. "It was a bit of a risk. But where's the fun in following protocol? It only gets in the way. You know I haven't worried about those things ever since I lost my license,  _mein kleiner_ _Freund_. It will be quite exciting to see how this pans out! Besides, it was another triumph! He's still alive, isn't he? Everything will be fine as long as he's not made aware of his new... well, attachments."

I motion for Archimedes to flutter away, to perch on one of the many shelves on the wall. I have confined him to observing my work from a distance. He's gotten too close to these expensive organs one too many times, and I can't afford to let any of them go to waste.

After I separate the brains from the uteruses (I might use those brains to see if putting them in the human body in an area other than the head might enhance the body's abilities, much like steroids but more...  _interessant_ ), I refer to the record I keep of the new (I say new, but they are actually quite a bit older than me) mercenaries I work for.

Such blank canvases.

There's Greg, the man I've just finished operating on; he is the team's demolitions expert, but he is nothing like Demo. What he lacks in the backbone Tavish has, I more than made up for in baboon uterus!

There's another Greg on the team, who serves as the team's scout. Again, he is nothing like the Scout I knew; he is much older (and less arrogant).

Ross is the team's soldier. I will never understand why these soldiers insist on covering their eyes. This one wears a band over his eyes at all times! I would have run experiments on him long ago to understand the truth behind his eyes, but he hasn't let me go near him. He hasn't set one foot within ten meters of my lab! Oh well. At least I don't have to worry about him thinking I am a Nazi. Old Jane Doe used to give me the strangest looks if I didn't pretend well enough that I was American... But I digress. I will get to Ross soon enough. 

Virgil, the team's sniper, is an interesting character. I still don't know much about him... yet. All I know so far is that he's quite sadistic. Not as much as me, of course, but... I hear him practicing monologues to himself as he gazes out the window toward the sea. I cannot tell who he plans on saying all of this to, but his word choice does sound a lot like the kinds of things I used to hear our old Sniper muttering to himself about the BLU Spy. Virgil does not interact with his own spy in any way, shape, or form, so to whom could he be directing all of this monotonous growling? Could it, perhaps, be our RED Spy? The Spy I last saw just six months ago?

No, of course not. Wasn't Spy going to leave the country? How on earth would Virgil even find that man? There isn't a single soul I could imagine Spy informing of his whereabouts. For all I know, he has not gone anywhere and simply stated he'd be leaving in order to throw off anyone who might try to go out and find him.

This slight tension doesn't worry me, in any case. Spy and Sniper are quite close, despite the loathing they actively display toward their BLU counterparts, and Sniper would no doubt grant Virgil a quick death if he were to try anything.

Virgil hasn't needed me much when we've been in combat, and I'm glad. Healing snipers is not the most exciting part of my job. 

I haven't learned the name of this team's spy yet, but then again, it took me at least half a decade before our Spy trusted me enough to tell me his name. I haven't been able to find this new spy anywhere, and I need to find him soon because it's high time that  _Feigling_ had his regular examination! Who knows how long this team has gone without a medic.

Fred Conagher had no problem letting me operate on him. He's very open, in every sense of the word!

As a fellow man of science, he understands my need to satisfy my curiosity. He and I worked together to attach his new self-designed prosthetic legs to his waist. I learned so much with that operation.

I learn something new with every procedure, but it isn't always involving human anatomy. The last time I operated on him, as I was preparing to put him under (the team's heavy had just broken my medigun again so keeping Fred awake would have been incredibly risky), I was only slightly shocked to learn that he is, in fact, Engie's father! I suppose the apple doesn't fall far from the engineering tree. 

Beatrice is  _eine schöne Frau_ , and she is very composed. I can see not only from her scars and missing eye but also from her mannerisms that she is quite experienced and has seen many years of combat. Perhaps a bit crazed, as we all are, but not nearly as unhinged as Pyro, who will always be a lost cause. Beatrice is the calm sort of crazy that would make her a decent torturer. Also, I believe Beatrice and the heavy have a sort of... connection.

Speaking of the heavy, he is...

Aheh.

Well, he is nothing like  _mein alter Freund_ , Mikhail. I will just leave it at that.

 

"Frankenstein!"

 

Ah, speak of the devil. I haven't been with the team for even a year and that  _Kotzbrocken_ has already fabricated a charming nickname for me. Quite fitting, actually. I won't argue with it. I think part of me might even like it.

 

"FRANKENSTEIN!"

 

I rush out of the operating theatre. It doesn't matter what he's calling me for; I had better be there sooner than as soon as possible. I'm not afraid of the man himself, heavens no, but if I'm not constantly at his beck and call, he could dock my pay or even fire me. Where would I be then? The civilized world is no place for an ex-licensed combat medic. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we catch a glimpse of Medic's thoughts during the aforementioned scene in "A Cold Day in Hell."

I've just finished putting the finishing touches on the detonator-- well, more of an  _inductor,_ really-- for all of the baboon uteruses when suddenly I realize the building has gone quiet. Strange; mercenaries are always shouting at each other. They must have gathered in a single room somewhere; most likely speaking with Gray Mann about this upcoming mission the Heavy has been talking about preparing for. 

Testing the detonator will have to wait. For now, it goes into my medical kit. Functional or not, it might be of use to me later.

I grab the stack of medical files and rush into the main office just as I hear the heavy begin to wonder about my whereabouts. 

"Wait! Are we leaving?" I shout, papers fluttering everywhere. We can't leave now! "What about the baboon uteruses?"

The heavy gives me a confused look (the same look I get a lot of from these men; they don't understand me half as well as my old team did).

"What the heck are you talking about? What baboon uteruses?"

"The ones I'm sewing into you. I haven't gotten to everyone yet." I check the list: sure enough, I've done the procedure on everyone except Beatrice (for obvious reasons) and the spy (that _Schweinehund_ disappears more often than my old French comrade, and I didn't think that was even possible). "Can I just say what a pleasure it's been to work on such blank canvases! If I didn't know any better, I'd say your last Medic barely experimented on you at all!"

There was evidence of a bit of improvisation from time to time, but he wasn't near as drastic as he could have been. 

The poor fellow had obviously spent too much time following the rules. 

Though I can't see his eyes under his goggles, I can tell from his deepened wrinkles that the heavy is becoming increasingly angry. "I swear to God, if you put a single uterus in my men..." 

This doesn't phase me. I've seen worse reactions. Nevertheless, I step back and try to tell him what my patients usually want to hear: "Oh, come now. It's perfectly safe!"

I want to make sure he knows that no, I did not put a  _single_ uterus in his men, so I add: "I put three in Greg. You don't hear him complaining!" Greg is not on the operating table at the moment, so I need not trouble myself with his heart rate.

Greg cries out: "You said you were filling a cavity!"

Typical response. I turn to him with the calm physician's smile I've practiced since I was a  _kleiner Junge_ _:_ "I was. The one I made in your abdomen."

He keels over and proceeds to moan. Such drama. So much for not complaining.

Suddenly, the question dawns on me. "Wait. Where are we going, anyway?" I ask.

"We're hunting your old team," the heavy replies with a grin. "That a problem?"

He reminds me of my childhood bully back in Stuttgart. He thought he could push me around because he was bigger than me. He thought I was just small and crazy. He underestimated me. I showed him, in the end. This heavy is very close to making the same mistake. 

I look around at the mercenaries staring at me and ponder for a moment. Why would they be hunting my old team? They disbanded. That's the whole reason I'm here. Still, why would he lie about something like this? He seems excited about it though, so I suppose it must be true. 

Finally. The old team, back together again. The scientific possibilities are endless. 

I chuckle. "Aheh. A chance to test my latest triumphs against my earliest experiments?

 

No, that won't be a problem at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that there is the first time we got to see our man Medic in the comics! What an iconic moment. Let me know what y'all think in the comments; as I've said before I'm open to any and all feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Medic reunites with his team in what's left of New Zealand...
> 
> and Sniper gets shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: This one's super, SUPER short. Apologies!!

As we arrive, I see human bodies floating everywhere. This great, grand city, reduced to rubble, and the people reduced to aquatic debris. So much wasted potential. So much could have been learned about the science behind the brilliant minds of these New Zealanders...

"FRANKENSTEIN! Would ya quit daydreaming for a minute and listen?"

"Oh!  _Ja, Ja._ I'm listening."

"As I was saying, these guys are the laughingstock of the mercenary world. Won't be too hard to get 'em to cooperate. All we gotta do is take out one of 'em, and we've got their attention."

I'm not sure if I like this man referring to my old team as "laughingstock," but I say nothing. I am too focused on all this WASTED POTENTIAL! When I find out who is responsible for this tragic misuse of science, I'll...

I'll...

The doors open.

_Meine Güte. _It's the old team and  _Fraulein_ Pauling! And they are all together! Well, except for the Engineer. He's probably off somewhere doing PROPER SCIENCE, unlike whoever left New Zealand to rot in its watery coffin. I will never let that go.

I often used to say that my skill was wasted on that team, but some small part of me had started to miss them. I throw them a salute and a smile. I am too overwhelmed by everything to pay attention to what the heavy is saying when suddenly I hear two gunshots behind me. Sniper falls limp and Demo quickly catches him. Suddenly my senses catch up with me and I hear the heavy's gravelly, mocking voice growling down at the team:

"I hope the rest of you rejects don't die that easy, because we've got questions that need answers."

I whirl around to see who fired the shots. Sure enough, it was Virgil. Not surprising.

Well.

That man has just made my job a lot harder. 

_Danke schön, Schweinehund._


End file.
